The Origin of the Ghostwriter
by MoonlightUmbreon
Summary: It happened on the night just after my sister's 21st birthday celebration, and left scars that changed me forever - ones that are impossible to forget. -completely rewritten- -Ghostwriter centric- -multiple character deaths-
1. The Party Before

**Disclaimer**  
I don't own Danny Phantom or anything else referenced in this fanfic, etc. They are the sole property of their respective owners, yadda yadda, you know the drill.

**Author's Note**  
For those of you who read the original version of this fanfic, welcome back! :D To those of you who have never seen this before in their lives, just plain welcome! This is a revamped version of The Origin of the Ghost Writer. When I originally wrote the thing, I thought I was doing well for what my skill level was then. But that was what, ten, eleven months ago? My writing style's different from back then. And I really enjoyed writing this fic the first time through. So I've decided to redo it... I want to see which parts of my writing are different, what's stayed the same, and continuing ticks that need to be thrown out.

This new version has a few different things and a few tweaks in it. So there's gonna be some new stuff for those who've already read the original. Most, if not all sentence structure has either been changed or added to, or even completely replaced in some cases. This time around, it's also a lot longer, so I'm going to split it into chapters to make it easier to read over a period of time.

**Warning: **When I rated this 'T', I rated it that for a reason. It contains some alcohol references and character deaths. If this irks you, then I suggest you don't read.

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**The Origin of the Ghostwriter****  
Redone**

**Prologue  
The Party Before  
**

**MoonlightUmbreon**

**

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**

Marietta.

She used to be my younger sister. She was just turning twenty-one - five years younger than I was. Well, that was _then_, anyway. This is where our story starts.

Both of our features were actually quite similar, in regards to hair and eye colour; I think it runs in the family. Her black hair was very long, and stretched right down to her waist. It wasn't dead-straight though, it also had some frizz in places that according to her, 'just didn't want to come out'. I had a few bangs myself, but only because I purposely put them there – under normal circumstances, it just went flat, and that looked too neat to me. Both of our eyes were a dark shade of green – something that we seemed to share a certain level of pride about, as there weren't many people around who possessed dark green eyes. The only difference was that I needed glasses over mine; not doing so often resulted in my walking into random walls, or on one particular occasion, a tree trunk.

However, as this story still needs to start with Marietta, (although more commonly known as Mary) I think I should say a little more about her. She was my only sibling, which was strange for the seventies as families often had more than three kids. It was probably better that way; it meant there was less people to fight and bicker with. Apart from the occasional row, though, we were usually fine.

Now, the thing you must now about Mary was her love of parties and discos. So of course, her twenty-first had to be the kind of disco-party that she adored. Our Mum and Dad happily catered for it on account of it being her special day. The initial setting up of the party was one of the harder parts, but well-worth it. At the end of a long day, the lounge room had been turned into a miniature disco, complete with all of the best music from the seventies, junk food and some alcoholic beverages.

I had been in charge of decorating the newly-christened 'Disco Room'. However, the roof of our house on the ground floor was rather high, so I needed a ladder just to get the ribbons on the chandelier. Before I'd even finished, there were guests already arriving – I should have been done, but I'd had to go out shopping for a gift for Mary earlier, (a set of water-colour paints) and let me tell you; she was one hard person to buy for. It took me ages.

In total, there were eight people that came; her six tightly-knit group of friends, and our twin cousins, both boys. Really, it should have been nine, but my half-brother Randy had disappeared without a trace three years ago.

As the party really began to get started, it didn't take long for the drinks to get passed around. Even the underage twins received one each. I drank mine slowly through the night, careful to drink plenty of water. I'd been hungover before, and it was one of those things that I _really _did not feel like experiencing again. On the contrary however, one of Mary's friends, Helen, did rather fancy the odd glass of champagne, and managed to slip in three more-than-decent sized glasses of it before my parents noticed the swagger in her step. Mary was taken home at just nine o'clock for the alcohol to wear off, with a very bad headache and a tendency to need a bucket.

As nine slipped to ten, the legendary cutting of the cake time came around. Mary didn't hesitate, diving at the chance. Of course, like everyone else, the small amount of alcohol she'd ingested had gone to her head, and without even thinking she cut to the very bottom.

Mary's friends were a rather childish bunch, even when completely sober. So when they saw this, they were going to make her kiss the closest boy, regardless about what she herself and the unfortunate participant were going to think of it. I was that unfortunate participant standing a little too close to her.

"Mary, you cut to the bottom!" Anne gasped, a broad and playful grin widening across her face. "You know what that means; kiss time!"

We looked at each other, staring for more than just a few seconds. Mary pouted slightly, and turned back to her friend with her teeth clenched. "This is sick! Writer's my _brother, _for heaven's sake!" As a small side note, 'Writer' was my nickname. Everyone, including my parents, called me by that name. Most likely because there was barely ever a moment where I wasn't either buried in a book or buried in a notebook writing.

"Yeah, I must side with her and say that this... this is just plain wrong. No."

The guests were rather dissatisfied with our reaction – these people were comparable to bloodthirsty vampires; they weren't going to stop until they got what they wanted. They began to chant "_Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!_" repeatedly, looking excitedly from me to my sister. With great reluctance and an absolutely revolted look on her face, she quickly came up and gave me a completely meaningless brush on the cheek.

"There, is that enough for you _sick _people?!" she yelled angrily, giving them all the 'evil eyes' and pointing her finger threateningly at them. Many looked quite disappointed that it was just on the cheek and that they hadn't really gotten their money's worth for it, but it was a kiss, nonetheless. "Good, 'cause there's no way it's happening again, got it?!"

The party continued to rave on for many more hours into the night; midnight itself came and went without anyone really noticing. The only thing that even placed midnight into conscious awareness was my parents taking away the alcohol, so they didn't have to call anyone else's parents to take home a completely hammered kid. This resulted in a fair amount of disgruntled yells. These yells were extinguished, however, as soon as my parents miraculously managed to find an all-night pizzeria that even _delivered_.

The alcohol forgotten, dares where quickly forming throughout the party-goers. Mary ended up being tricked into an extra-spicy slice of Americano pizza. In a matter of moments, her face was rivaling the colour of a beetroot as she dashed to grab and proceeded to skull the nearest can of cola. She gave a loud belch at the end, panting and swallowing in quick succession, eyes streaming. I put my hand over my mouth, trying not to be seen grinning.

It was four in the morning until there were just five of us left – Mary, her friend Julie, (who was staying the night) my parents and I. The party, finally having died down, left a mess of torn streamers, party poppers and junk food everywhere. We all decided that it could be left until the morning, the thought of even _thinking _of cleaning it up at this hour was quite daunting.

I said goodnight to everyone and plodded to my room. It was cold all the way up on the second story. The ground floor was warm, and so was the first, but the second always seemed like it could give you frostbite. I tried to ignore the temperature, wrapping my long trench coat tighter around myself. I decided that changing into my (much too thin for the temperature) pajamas could wait for a bit.

I got under the covers of my bed after kicking off my shoes, propping myself up against the pillow and picking up my (very fat) notebook and pen, opening it up to the most recent page near the back. Maybe it was the hype from the party downstairs, or maybe it was just me, but I wasn't tired at all. So I continued to write in my notebook; I was currently in the process of writing a story. I was getting fairly excited too, because there was just two chapters left to be written. I had my mind set on one day getting it published and _just maybe _earning a little money from it. My family often looked at me as a madman for ever even thinking of taking such a pathway – nobody made any money from writing books. Unless you wrote something like the next _To Kill a Mockingbird _or something... but I was determined. In fact, even if it sold to only one person, (on the presumption that it was published to start with) I'd be happy that at least one person was taking time out of their valuable lives to read _my _book.

Six more pages had been immortalised in my notepad when the corner of my eye caught just that little glint of sunlight peaking over the hills. Just a glint. My eyes glanced quickly at the clock radio and then back out of the window. And then back to the clock – it was five in the morning – not good, I'd stayed up writing a _lot _longer than my original intention of fifteen minutes. I must have gotten too caught up in it all.

I jumped out of bed, the notebook being almost thrown as it landed messily on my desk. I flung the wardrobe open and wrestled getting my pajamas out as they got entangled with the draw.

_Brilliant..._ I thought sarcastically, giving them another hard yank, this time with my foot up against the wall to help push. First, I heard this tearing sound. Next thing I know, I was flat on my bed with a torn pajama jacket.

I groaned exasperatedly, mum wasn't going to be happy about this. I could just imagine her saying _"I don't care whether I bought them for you in the first place or not, _you're_ the one who ripped them, so _you'll_ be the one paying for them!"_

I looked up at the ceiling, contemplating how much money another pair would cost. I didn't notice anything particularly strange about the roof until my nose picked it up instead.

It was _smoke_.

As soon as I'd smelt it, I noticed it on the ceiling. My neck twisted to look at the door to find a small layer of it seeping in through the top. It actually took a few moments for my brain to link smoke with fire, but when it did, I grabbed my notebook and ran for the door. I didn't like what I saw.

I'd been greeted with a room full of flames and black, smoky air. I began to panic, but still having enough sense to bury my face (except for my eyes) in my jacket and scarf, trying desperately not to breathe in any of the toxic fumes. I ran to the staircase, avoiding numerous spot-fires along the way, only to see the stairs conveniently collapse inwards right in front of me. The roof above creaked and strained, and the floor below became rickety as the floorboards holding it together came loose. Every second that went by... more panic was pumped through me, I became increasingly flustered, more worried that I would never see the ones I held close again...

Coughing, I made my way back to my room, closing the door behind me so as to not let too much more smoke in – but it was too late; it had already become filled with the respiration-impairing substance. I opened my window wide, putting my head out where I could at least breathe a little more easily.

Down safely on the ground, I saw my sister, my parents and Julie all waiting. They were screaming at me to get down, but right now with the stairs caved in, I knew that that was simply out of the question. "I can't, the stairs are gone! Do you have the ladder?!" It was a long-shot, I know. But I was really starting to get quite desperate.

"It's in the house somewhere!" Mary screamed back up. "I'll go get it!"

If I had have been within an arm's length, I would have been strangling my sister for her idiocy. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I called, but no one seemed to hear me.

My mother screamed, dashing after my sister and back into the house. There was no time to be ripping hair out, but I was, nonetheless, quite ready and willing. My dad didn't follow them, instead looking straight upwards at me. "You're going to have to jump, or they're going to get too far in there and end up stuck!"

I looked downwards – it was a three story drop. The ground suddenly seemed so much further away than it really was, even though I had no fear of heights. How on earth would I survive such a drop onto hard ground?

I didn't like it at all. But I didn't have any other choice, and the smoke was beginning to get to my head even with the open window. The hand I had holding my notebook was slumped over the rails, and my grip on it loosened. I only just realised what had happened when it was halfway to the ground. My dad ran and picked it up from the ground, dangerously close to the burning garage.

My heart burned as the sick explosion caused by the heating up of numerous gas bottles reached my eyes and ears. My dad, as well as the rest of the ground floor, was engulfed in a large amount of ash, dust, smoke, debris and fire.

I knew what was coming next. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, clenched my teeth and tensed my muscles.

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**Author's Note  
**Yeah, yeah. Me and my cliffies, huh? Why must I always write them? I don't know. It's becoming like a bad habit or something. This will be continued shortly! I can't say how shortly, but when I make promises I don't tend to keep them. What you can be sure of is that I really _want_ to get this done, so you'll probably see an update soon.**  
**

**Moonlight:** I'm actually really surprised at how _different _my writing is from when I originally wrote this. It's _weird, _even. My old writing seems... foreign.  
**Kris:** Thank-god it seems foreign, Moonlight. When I look at your old writing, I want to cringe and throw up.**  
Moonlight:** Yeah, I might actually agree with you there.  
**Kris:** O.O She agreed with me. Damn. I was hoping for an argument.

Peace,  
~MoonlightUmbreon


	2. Awoken

**Author's Note**  
Next chapter! Told ya I'd update... for once. Gee, I am a terrible updater sometimes... I know. Oh well, can't really help it if sometimes (a lot of the time) I'm inspiration-starved.

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**The Origin of the Ghostwriter  
Redone**

**Chapter I  
Awoken**

**MoonlightUmbreon**

**

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**_Something _was definitely not right.

For one, the pain of bones breaking, sides splitting and organs crushing had never come. For two, I just didn't _feel _right. Maybe it was relief that the house didn't fall down on top of me?

To be absolutely honest, I had no idea if I actually wanted to open my eyes at all at the moment. I wondered if keeping them shut and remaining in blissful ignorance would be a better way to go. My mind felt dazed – I couldn't tell what was happening except that I should have gotten crushed under the weight of the entire roof of my house.

No. I wouldn't allow myself to just keep my eyes closed. That was stupid – the pinnacle of idiocy. Slowly, I opened one eye, before opening the other.

Dust. Collapsed weather boards. Debris. Roofing tiles. The house underneath me was certainly not my house anymore. My mind was especially slow at catching on at the moment, which explained why it took a full ten seconds to realise I was at least a few feet up from the ground. Even then, I was exceedingly slow at actually reacting. All I did was stare; my mind almost blank.

As the shock began to sink in, my heart didn't beat – not once. I wanted to say something, but words never entered my mind. My body shook violently as nervousness and a very nasty sinking feeling overwhelmed my being.

Noticing the smoke still rising from the remains of the house, I remembered that my family and Julie were probably trapped underneath. I disregarded myself and the state that I was in, beginning to make my way downwards. I wasn't quite sure exactly _how _I was doing it, but I was, and really, that's all that mattered right now.

I landed on a pile of wood that wasn't far away from a decent-sized spot fire, though the heat it emanated didn't warm me like it should have; I was just cold. Very, very cold. Trying very hard to ignore the obvious paradox, I managed to shift some of the wood but seemed to get nowhere. There was just too much of it.

All I really knew right now was that I needed to make sure that my family was okay. I wasn't nearly as concerned about my own current state as I was theirs – though I was admittedly scared of what might have happened to me, I did feel relatively okay. Different, but okay.

Maybe they were okay – just trapped underneath the house. The still _smoking _house. Desperately, I looked around the rubble, but I couldn't see anyone. If they were underneath it all, they were _far _underneath it. I tried calling out to them, hoping to hear even a mumble as a reply. I didn't receive any – the only thing I received was the realisation that my voice had become echoed and weird.

_Maybe they've left without me... _I thought, trying to come up with some explanation. _Yes, they have to have left without me. I mean, they can't be dead or anything, can they...? _A very sick feeling in my stomach told me that yes, yes they could. I knew very well that they would have never just left without me.

A loud foghorn sounded through the misty dawn, the sound of sirens filling my ears as a fire truck sped towards the scene. I took a very brief look at myself, and whatever I was now, it wasn't fit to be seen. My skin was grey and my entire body, clothes included, somehow managed to glow and ethereal white. I figured that it was better to go and hide in the corner of the fence where I wouldn't likely be seen, so then at least the fireman could get on with their job without being distracted, reassuring myself that things would work out better that way.

I silently fell back and slipped into the corner, where I went unnoticed as the firefighters rallied around each other to spray down the remaining flames of the burning wreck. I watched on, my mind never leaving the hope that my family -and Julie- were all still alive. What was left of the fire didn't take long to be extinguished, and they quickly set to work shifting the debris. I sunk further, if possible, into the corner of the fence, hoping they didn't turn in my direction. Even if they did, I reasoned, the smoke and mist that had rested over the area should at least help a little for cover.

One of the fireman called out to another after throwing away a weather board. I couldn't quite hear what was being said apart from a muffled yell, but I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't go up to them under any circumstances as I watched on. I would only get in the way.

My previous thought was thrown out of the window as they dragged her -Mary- out of the debris. Or should I say, more like her lifeless body. I couldn't help myself – I wouldn't have been able to stop if I'd tried – I sprinted up to the scene, completely ignoring the shock of several firefighters around the area. I fell to my knees, having run so fast that I slid across the ground slightly, putting my arms on her shoulder bones and shaking her.

Her eyes remained closed, not making so much as a groan. I began to shake nervously as I checked for the other vitals I knew. I found nothing. No heartbeat, no breath, no – no nothing. I was even so desperate as to check her eyes by carefully opening them with my fingers, but they were dried out and blank.

"This isn't happening..." I whispered to myself. "This _really _isn't happening. Mary, c'mon, wake up! Mary!"

Slowly, I pulled my desperate hands off her, falling back so I was sitting on my knees, and leaving my hands rested on top. I couldn't take my eyes off of her lifeless form, until a tap on my back took me out of my trance-like state.

I turned my head around sharply, my eyes meeting a fireman's, who flinched backwards. "_What _are you?"

I blinked, my head slightly turning backwards to look at Mary, though never removing my gaze from the man in front of me. "That shouldn't matter; what about my sister?! I can't get any vitals or anything out of her!"

"Erm, yeah, right on it." I got as a reply, the firefighter quickly moving to my sister's side. I moved away slightly to give him some room, though the other firefighters who weren't busying themselves with removing burnt weather boards (and even those who were) couldn't seem to keep their eyes on me. I was right earlier – I should have stayed in the corner, unnoticed.

He checked all over, but just like me, couldn't find a thing. He turned back to me, not really sure what expression to be wearing on his face. It looked like something between fear and sadness. I knew what he was going to say even though he looked too scared to say it.

"It's not good, is it...?" I asked quietly, trying to get some sort of speech out of the fireman. He shook his head ever-so slightly, biting back slightly on his lip.

"There's nothing I can do anymore... she's gone..."

I gingerly reapproached my fallen sister, touching her cheek just like I used to when she was little – it usually resulted in a few giggles on her part, but now she was just a deathly quiet, lying limp on the ground...

"Oh god, I'm so sorry..." I whimpered out too quietly for anyone else to hear. "I shouldn't have said anything about the ladder. I shouldn't have – this is my fault, not yours..." I should have been crying, but for some reason I appeared to be lacking the tear-ducts to cry with.

I shakily got up, taking my last looks at Mary and beginning to slowly walk away. The firefighters were only going slowly with my presence around – they were constantly glancing at me, most looking rather worried and jumpy. As much as I hated to do so, I knew that I'd have to go away if I wanted them to get a move on. It would mean not finding out the fate of the rest of my family, but if it meant that they survived because the firefighters would work without distraction, then I was willing.

There was one person who I could go to. I knew he'd always accept and help me, no matter what. And right now, that was something that I really needed. He could solve anything – he'd know what to do... I hoped.

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**Author's Note**  
Yep, here's the chapter! It's not quite as long as I was hoping, but it's a scene break nonetheless, plus I want to get this posted tonight, and It's getting late. Hope you guys enjoyed – I'd love to hear some of your thoughts!

Peace,  
-MoonlightUmbreon


	3. Rick

**Author's Note**  
I'm back! -scary music- Naw. Anyways, here's the next chapter for you guys. Hopefully it'll be a little longer than the last chapter. I wasn't happy with the length, then...  
And yes, there has been much event rearrangement, by the way. So yeah... it just seems to work better in my mind than the other way around.

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**The Origin of the Ghostwriter  
Redone**

**Chapter II**

**Rick**

**-MoonlightUmbreon-  


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**

It was so hard, just the simple act of walking away from my house. My legs didn't want to move – it was like in one of those dreams where you simply can't run, only this time, on the contrary, I didn't actually want to go anywhere.

The firefighters continued to stare at me as though it was their life mission. I wanted – no, needed for them to stop staring. I _needed _them to get back on with finding the rest of the people in that house.

I forced my glued legs to keep walking away, thankful that it was too early for anyone to be out and about yet. To be perfectly honest, I really wasn't sure about what was happening to me. The pale skin was freaky and glowing was just plain weird – and just the knowledge that I wasn't subject to gravity for those few moments was even stranger than that.

Speaking of which, as I began to walk down the street, I didn't feel right. I still felt like I really could fly like I had. I had no desire to even try. I knew something was wrong here and now; I really didn't feel like confirming more strange happenings. All I wanted was to be normal, and be with my completely alive family.

This was beyond messed up. It had to be impossible that Mary was... dead. She was too important to me, and she'd just turned twenty-one! My mind refused to except the blatant fact, continually trying to reassure me that she'd be revived in hospital just fine. Of course everything would be okay! The whole idea that she was gone forever was too surreal...

The sun was now beginning to rise up, becoming much more than a glint. However, I payed barely any attention to that as I forced each leg to place itself in front of the other. The urge to turn back was ridiculously strong. I was very thankful that the streets at this time in the morning were still deserted, and that I was able to get to my best friend's house without being seen.

Unlike the rest of the neighbourhood, Rick was an early-bird. He was always up at the crack of dawn, which usually meant around five in the morning, every morning. He wasn't really much of a sleeper. The two of us could be traced back years, all the way to elementary school – I wasn't sure how much help he could be in such a situation, but right now the thing I needed and could have the most was his friendship.

I didn't knock on his door – that was a pointless idea. I'd've only woken his parents. Instead, as I always did when it was late at night or particularly early in the morning like now, I went around the side and knocked on his bedroom window. He'd know who it was; I was the only one who did that. "Rick, it's me! Something really bad has happened, open up!"

"Go' it', Wri'er!" a muffled voice said from inside said. "Lemme finish this bi' o' 'oas' an' I'll le' yu in!" he was obviously halfway through a mouthful. I waited patiently, dragging my hand through my hair out of nervousness. I had no idea how he'd react to any of this – neither of us had been exposed to anything of the kind, ever.

The two curtains covering the window were pulled apart, but not all the way. Rick stopped before he could get that far, and suddenly it was surprising that his eyes hadn't fallen clean out of his head. "_What_ in the name of every religious deity happened to you?!"

I clambered through the forever-open window as he let me in and then quickly drew the curtains again. I was barely able to look into his eyes, but I at least managed. "You know how it was my sister's party last night?"

"Course I do," he replied, suddenly looking at me suspiciously. "You're not about to tell me that this is some kind of big prank that you were dared into, was it? I know how much that sister of yours just _loves _to tease me like that."

"It's nothing like that at all," I replied grimly, adjusting my glasses as I felt them slide down my nose. "Something caught on fire, and the entire house collapsed! I don't have any idea _what's _happening to me at all, and the firefighters – they..." I swallowed loudly, my eyes no longer looking into Rick's. "...found Mary dead."

"You're having me on." Rick said instantly, though the uncertainty was clear in his voice. "This isn't real," he paused suddenly, directing his hand at me. "_This _isn't real. It's not even logical for a start! What are you using? F-fibre optics? Been down to that crazy store in town with the weird face add-ons...?"

"I haven't been anywhere, and I'm not using fibre optics!" I said desperately. "And how can some crazy store contribute to any of this?!"

His face was becoming paler by the moment as he quickly gave me a sharp jab towards his mirror. "Look at that. And... by the way... you're freezing cold."

"I... am...?" I asked worriedly, before taking the few steps to the large piece of reflective glass. Suddenly I knew very well why people had stared at me. It wasn't just the grey and glowing skin. It was much more – my eyes were an electric-coloured green, glowing just like the rest of me – and my ears, they were pointed at the ends. Slowly, I raised one hand and felt my left, then brushed some hair over it so that it was harder to notice the point. I continued on to do this with the other one, too.

"You're kidding..." I said quietly, staring at my appearance. It was when I spoke that I noticed that my teeth were jagged and sharp, neatly put in rows that fitted perfectly into each other. "What the hell happened to me?"

"Look..." my friend started carefully, avoiding looking into both me and my reflection's neon-coloured eyes. "You don't by any chance... remember anything strange, do you?"

"Actually..." I began, turning away from the mirror, not wishing to look anymore. "I should have been crushed... but I didn't feel anything." Rick looked down at his feet, shuffling them nervously. And it began to come to me – I had no idea why I hadn't seen it before. I'd been blind... how could I _possibly _have been this blind about it? To be perfectly truthful, it was probably more shock and denial than anything else. There was no other explanation...

"So that's why..." I muttered, not quite under my breath. I stepped backwards slowly, until I felt the foot of Rick's bed behind me, where I sat down. "I think something's happened to me – something _bad. _Trust me, everything feels either wrong or different. I think... I... I might have... shared Mary's fate."

"That's impossible." Rick said bluntly. "I mean, that is _literally _impossible. There's no way you can be dead and standing here. I'm sure of it."

I bit my lip softly, remembering the shape of my new set of teeth. "Well... it's literally impossible to have neon glowing green eyes, too, and just look at this." Rick remained silent, so I continued as a sudden brainwave hit me. "Huh... if, you know, I'm like this and all, then surely... what about Mary?"

My friend began to fiddle with his hair, staring at his feet. "I don't know... are you sure?"

"Well, it's worth a shot..."

He tried not to look skeptical, though it was quite evident on his face that he was; very-much so, too. I ignored it, clinging to that one little hope that my little sister might not be quite as gone as I'd previously thought.

The bed made no creak as I stepped up from it, as it usually would have. Don't ask me why I noticed this little quirk; I guess it was because it usually groaned when a person was either sitting down on it or getting up from it, I was probably so used to it that the bed not making a sound seemed out of place.

"Look, if you're going back, I'm coming with you. I want to see this for myself."

I smiled slightly, knowing that there'd always be one person on my side. Even if a skeptical one. It didn't broaden though, because right now there was really no reason to be wearing a broad grin. I slid my rather thin frame through the open window, while Rick, being just a little bigger than I was, had a bit of trouble getting through. He wasn't used to coming in and out through it and it wasn't exactly an easy fit, even for me. I grabbed his hand so I could hold his balance, thankfully making it possible to avoid any injury on his part.

There was still no cars passing in our quiet street, being still too early for our neighbours to be up of a Sunday. Nevertheless, I was still very alert to my surroundings as we walked down the street. I'm fairly sure he noticed this too and helped keep watch, though nothing verbal was exchanged until further down the street, where the air had started to become smoky. Ricks eyebrow lowered and his mouth pulled to the side as a fair amount of uncertainty, from what I could tell, was building up inside of him. He inquired if it was the fire that had caused the smoke, and I could only nod sadly in reply.

I ran ahead once I heard the firefighters' voices, but rather than going straight into the scene, I hid behind my neighbours' fence and merely peeked over the top. Rick followed, panting. Over the fence was a scene I hated to see, but was too horrified to keep my eyes off. Rick stared goggle-eyed for a few moments, then turned around and leaned straight back onto the fence, rivaling the colour of my own skin.

"Oh my god, there really was a fire... I – I didn't believe you. I thought, and I know that I've already said this, but I thought it was one of you and your sister's elaborate jokes!"

"I think I know why." I said bitterly, continuing to look over the fence. Surely if I'd've still been alive, then tears would have been beginning to well up in my eyes. "I mean, this is s-so surreal that I can't even see it happen-ning..."

"Hey... look, it's not over yet. C'mon, we'll look for Mary. You said it yourself that she could still be here."

I contemplated it for a moment before nodding, then peered over the top of the fence once again. I looked all over the yard, but the only Mary I found was a completely lifeless one. The fireman continued to shift more rubble, now accompanied by the paramedics.

"I got a live one!" a firefighter suddenly yelled. I stayed, clinging to the fence, eager to see who it was. I honestly couldn't believe that even one member of my family was still alive. Rick joined me without hesitation, leaning right over the top and squinting to see, as a small amount of morning sun coupled with mist and smoke obscured his view. It didn't do the same to mine, as I saw, clear as crystal, one of those I held close choking, spluttering, and nursing a broken arm otherwise unharmed and freed from their trap.

* * *

**Author's Note**  
Yah-huh. I let someone live! Bet you didn't think I'd do that, huh? Well, maybe you did. I dunno. You probably did and I probably failed dismally at hiding it. Oh well. So long as you guys enjoyed, I'm happy! :D

Peace,  
-MoonlightUmbreon


	4. Take What you can Get

**Author's Note**  
PLEASE DON'T KILL ME... though I haven't updated this in so long that you probably have every right to. XD Sorry. I've had my fun, and now you can have yours (I hope) – finally, the next chapter!

* * *

**The Origin of the Ghostwriter  
Redone**

**Chapter III  
Take what you can Get  
**

**-MoonlightUmbreon-  


* * *

**

I swallowed, drumming my fingers along the fence line. I was pretty-much stunned – I hadn't expected at all that anyone else would walk out of there alive. I had _hoped, _but not expected. After all, the crushing weight of no less than three burning stories of house should've been enough to take out anyone.

Apparently not. My father held his right arm carefully – I could see the point where it'd been broken; his elbow was sticking out at an odd-looking angle. But apart from that, he was _actually _fine.

"Your dad survived it..." Rick whispered. I began to smile, and then nodded.

"He did!" I almost laughed. "He's – oh my God, he's alive and – just... God, I thought he'd be dead!"

It had been said a little louder than I'd intended, as both the firefighters and my dad looked directly at the fence we were almost hiding behind.

He pulled free from the gentle hold the fireman had on him, just managing to find his feet and stagger over to the wooden picket-fence. I found myself wanting to be over the other side, and before I could even move to go around, I was quickly becoming translucent and falling through. I landed at the other side on all fours, literally having passed right _through _the thing.

Picking myself up and readjusting my glasses, my father was now right in front of me. We looked into each other's eyes for a good long minute, the both of us in shock.

"I thought you'd be dead after the garage exploded..." I whispered. "Good God, I'm so sorry – you never would've gotten hurt if I hadn't dropped that notebook. You would've stayed at a safe distance..."

"A broken arm is nothing – I... what happened to you?! Your eyes, your skin..." his voice fell to an almost-silent volume. "You fell through the fence."

I heard another shout near the same general area that dad had been pulled free from. An awful sinking feeling overcame me, because I knew very well what was coming.

"...That's what happened to me..."

Dad looked back at the chaos going on behind him. By the time he'd torn his eyes away from it, my head had been directed to the ground, unable to look him in the eye. "Sorry..."

Rick looked over at what once was a very nice house, having now climbed over the top of the fence to the other side. He faltered for a second – he was never at a loss for what to say, even for a moment. It was a new experience for him. "It... well, it doesn't look too good..."

"It doesn't, but... hey, dad? There's something else you should know – I saw them pull Mary out of the wreck – she's... I checked for everything I knew of..."

"She can't be dead," he whispered. "Not both my son and my daughter... no. No..."

He looked on the verge of crying, which was indeed a very rare sight. It was awfully depressing, and it was then when I myself realised just how deep the situation was. As much as I tried to deny what I'd experienced today, it wasn't working and now I knew very well what I was. I'd flown, however briefly, had an extremely startling new appearance and managed to get myself to fall through the neighbour's wooden picket fence. I wasn't just a writer anymore – now, I was a ghostwriter. It was quite concerning just how literal the term had become.

"We found one more! We need urgent medical assistance; she's unconscious!"

I hadn't noticed the ambulance parked outside beforehand, but I did now. My mother was carried directly into it – she wasn't dead because she was definitely breathing, but she certainly wasn't in a great condition, either.

Now the only person that remained was Julie, and it seemed they were having a bit of trouble locating her. I finally decided that I wasn't going to let one more person die in this wreck if I could help it, and I knew that I'd have a lot more chance of finding her than any of the others.

"I'm going to go in and find her," I said shortly. "I don't have anything to lose anymore."

Dad looked shocked at my statement. "But what about the parts still on fire!"

"In this state, do you really think it matters?"

Before either dad or Rick could object further, I ran over to the house. If I could just regain that intangibility I'd had earlier, I'd be able to slip through the weather boards and look for her inside. That same feeling that'd come over me before came again and spread right through me – and so I held it. Though I didn't think becoming intangible would limit my ability to do so, it apparently did, as I couldn't touch the ground anymore. For a few moments, all I could do was dangle in the air, half-stupefied and half-surprised that, with no support whatsoever, I'd again found a fair distance between my feet and the dirt below.

I knew I was becoming the circus of the day – the gasps I tried to block out from behind told me that much – but right now there were definitely other things at stake. Without (much) more hesitation, I slipped through the (perfectly solid) wreckage to have a look from a point of view that no one else could take.

Parts were still burning underneath, and usually my eyes reached a point where vision was obstructed from more and more wreckage. I ignored the burning parts and kept moving through – the fire didn't burn me in any way. It seemed that I could feel its heat, though my internal body temperature remained cold despite.

Every second seemed longer than usual – as though I was wasting a breath of life that may not be restored in the poor girl, on the presumption that she'd at all survived the accident.

When I finally did come across her, she was heavily laden with soot and ash. She coughed weakly every so often, usually accompanied by a slight dribble of blood from her mouth. One weather-board had conveniently fallen straight into her stomach, and others lay riddled over her legs and arms. I saw that her right hand had been impaled by a long, thick nail, and I could only wonder how deep it had gone in – or whether it had possibly passed through to the other side.

"Julie! Oh God... look,I don't know if you can still hear me, but I'm getting help for you."

Her head turned steadily to the side in an attempt to face me, though she still couldn't open her eyes. I'm sure she did try to speak – she opened her mouth – but the only thing it achieved was another spurt of blood becoming choked out.

"Don't speak... there's paramedics outside; they'll dig you out and help you. I'm going to go and tell them you're here."

The poor girl didn't try to say anything again as I made my way up to the top of the collapsed house. Disturbingly, on the way up, my eyes caught another part of ongoing fire quite close to where Julie lay.

I came up from the house and allowed myself to float there for a few seconds, still trying to get used to it, before becoming tangible again and landing on top of some of the debris.

"Julie's directly beneath me! She's alive, but she's going to need some urgent medical treatment!" I yelled. The firefighters and a few ambulance drivers all ran over and clambered up the debris, hastily digging near the spot where I stood. I moved out of the way for them, walking down onto the ground. It really should've been harder to climb down, but I was so light that none of the rubble slipped beneath my feet, and I could stand quite easily on every kind of slant.

I walked back over to dad and Rick and then turned around, watching all of the men digging through the house.

"No use trying to fool myself anymore..." I sighed, turning to look at my pale, glowing hands. "I really am a ghost..."

Dad reached around my shoulders with his good arm; I didn't object like I normally would have. I looked up into his eyes (he was a bit taller than me) and returned the half-hug he was trying to give, resting my head on his shoulder.

"It's all my fault!" I suddenly said, still looking up into the sky with that small, minute hope that Mary was there, confused, but there. "I shouldn't have said anything about the ladder, or dropped the notebook... then no one else would've been hurt – it'd just've been me."

"For God's sake," dad started. "In that kind of situation, no one thinks of consequences like that, and it was your sister and mother's decision to run inside, as it was mine to try and grab your notebook. I'm not sure why you found Julie so deep in the house, but that certainly wasn't your fault at any rate."

I fell silent, still draped over my father's good arm. The way he said it made things sound that bit better than they were. But it didn't change the fact that Mary was still dead and... I was too.

"C'mon," Rick said, breaking up the silence. "we should probably check up on how Leanne is."

"Oh _God_, yes," I answered. "I hope Mum's okay..."  


* * *

**Author's Note  
**Yeah, yeah... this took so long, and I really am sorry. I've had it written forever, but I was never satisfied and ended up rewriting it several times... Hope you guys can forgive me for this. I'm going to try and be a better updater. I really wish I could be the same as I was way back at the start, when I updated once, sometimes twice a day...


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